


In the Arms of Sleep

by Boondockbitch



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Nameless OFC, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-06-07 15:41:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6811468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boondockbitch/pseuds/Boondockbitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky's had nightmares before, and usually the comfort of his lover is the only thing he needs to relax. But when he accidentally hurts her, even just slightly, during one of his fits, Bucky begins to think that maybe she would be better off without him. She seems to think otherwise.</p><p>(Bucky/Nameless OFC)</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Arms of Sleep

3:04 AM, New York. 

_And I'll always need her more than she could ever need me_

The windows were open, letting the night breeze drift across the hardwood floor. The moonlight danced through the sheer curtains, splaying across the bed and the smooth cream walls. Aside from the soft sound of the fabric dancing slowly on the floor, the room was silent. Even the sounds of the city had died away. The bedroom door was open, just a crack, enough that she could slip back inside when she was ready.

The bathroom light buzzed when she flicked it on, her eyes squinting against the light. She blinked at her reflection, taking in the smears of eyeliner at the corners of her eyes and the now messy curls around her face. Only a few hours ago, there had been red lipstick and a diamond necklace. Steve’s birthday party had been a formal event, and she’d been more than eager to dress up for the event. Now, the necklace was on the bedside table and the lipstick was smudged on the face of her lover. She smiled to herself at the thought. He was sleeping, soundly, for what must be the first time in ages. 

She turned on the sink, the sound of water filling up the silence and echoing off the tile walls. She took off the streaks of eyeliner and tried to brush out the mess of hair, used the restroom, and paused to look at the red spot on her neck. She wore it like a trophy, like the skewed tank top and even more disheveled underwear. She didn’t bother fix them, intending to crawl right back in bed with him.

A noise startled her and she froze, hand covering her throat. For a moment, she thought someone was trying to break in, until she realized the noise came not from the living room, but from the bedroom. Moving slowly, she left the bathroom light on and started back down the hall. Through the cracked door, she saw him rolling in the bed. Her heart was heavy as she came back into the room, the floor cold under her feet. 

“Bucky?” Her voice bounced back at her. He couldn’t hear her, not in this state. She stood just next to the bed, watching with concern. This didn’t happen as often as it used to, but no matter how many times she saw him thrashing around, she couldn’t stop the tears prickling at her eyes. He called out, an incoherent yell, throwing punches at an invisible enemy. “Bucky!”

He didn’t hear, tangled up in the sheets. His hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks with sweat, the sheets wrapped about his bare chest. He must have felt like he was strapped down to the bed, unable to move, and she imagined that his nightmare was more or less a memory of what they did to him. She came closer, reaching out to grab the sheet so that she could loosen them; to help him breathe, to help him remember that he was free.

Her hand wrapped around the sheet and she spoke again, this time her motherly instincts taking over: “James, wake up.”

In the same moment, his eyes shot open, staring up at the ceiling. His hand wrapped around her forearm, gripping tight, too tight. A gasp escaped his mouth, as though bursting from the depths of Mariana’s trench, and his chest heaved. She gasped too, surprised but not in pain, and slowly, he came to and realized what was happening. His hand let her go and he sat up, the sheet falling to his waist. His eyes opened and closed over and over as he caught back up with reality, and she moved her arm out of the way, but otherwise sat perfectly still, watching and waiting.

She didn’t ask. She never did, and that was one of the reasons he loved her. All the nightmares he’d ever had, the ones that were real and the ones that never could be, but haunted him nonetheless, she never once asked him to tell her about them. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to hear them, or that she couldn’t, no. She knew, as well as he did, that if he needed to talk about it, he would. And she’d listen without a word, and that would be the end of it. He never told her, because he was afraid she wouldn’t be able to bear it. Hell, he couldn’t most of the time. That was a burden he would never put on her. He and Steve talked about it sometimes- Steve had his own demons. But he couldn’t do that to her.

He finally opened his eyes and found her face in the dark. She was watching him too, a sad look in her eyes. Her eyes sparkled with tears, and she’d already wiped her face dry while he was recovering. His eyes took in all the details of her form to remind himself that, yes, she’s here. Yes, she’s real. Yes, you’re safe. At home. In bed. With her. The freckles on her nose and cheeks. The tangles of hair falling over her shoulders. The love bite on her throat (had he done that? Of course he had, who else?) The curve of her collar bone, the tops of her breasts, her shoulders, her arms-

“I hurt you.” His voice was hoarse, and he licked his lips. He felt his own tears starting and buried his palms in his eyes, trying to push them- and the shadows of his nightmares- away. He felt her shift on the bed, closer, and her hands wrapped around his wrists to pull his arms away from his face. He made eye contact with her, then, and she was smiling sadly.

“I’m fine. You’re fine. It’s okay.” She murmured quietly, and he looked at the place where he’d grabbed her. The skin was a bit red, like a sunburn, but otherwise unharmed. “It could have been worse.”

“It might be, next time.” His voice cracked. He imagined the worst: breaking her arm, throwing her into the wall. Killing her in his sleep and waking up, only to find her body broken and bleeding on the bedroom floor. “I’m so sorry.” He couldn’t stop it then, the tears that slipped out and ran down his face. She took his face in her hands, wiping them away. She was practically in his lap now, her nose inches from his.

“I’m not afraid of you.” She whispered into the dark. She sat directly on his lap, legs on either side of him. Suddenly, he wished she’d move, get away from him. It was the safest place for her. But he couldn’t tell her to leave. Not directly, anyway. It was selfish, but what would he do without her? He’d had nightmares before, and woken alone, in the darkness and quiet. But when she was there, watching him from her side of the bed, it was so much easier to pull her close to him, bury his nose in her hair and watch her drift back to sleep.

“You should be.” He breathed. “You deserve a normal life.”

“A normal life?” She repeated with a breathy laugh. “I met you because one of my best friends is Captain America. All of my friends are superheroes, Bucky. ‘Normal life’ isn’t in my vocabulary.”

“I could kill you.” The sharpness and volume of his voice startled her, and she leaned back, away from him. She looked at him then and he felt his heart break.

“You won’t.” She shook her head and he took her hands, removing them from his face, trying to create distance. He wanted her closer, he wanted her to hold onto him the way she always did. To lie down with tangled legs and her arms around him, offering him the safety net he’d come to rely on. But he couldn’t- not now. How selfish he’d been, forcing her to care for him and keep him safe from his own mind, when he couldn’t even keep her safe from himself.

“I might.” He asserted. He let go of her, then, resolving not to touch her again. He might break her in two. “I can’t control it when I’m sleeping, you know that.”

“So what?” Her voice was harsh, and it was his turn to be surprised. “I don’t care, I’m not leaving you. That’s what you’re implying, right?” Hurt filled her expression then, and Bucky was lost for words, staring at her. “Well suck it up. I’m not going anywhere. Just because you’re scared-“

“Of course I’m scared.” His tone cut her like a knife, but neither of them moved. He’d already removed her from his lap, though neither of them really seemed to notice it happening, and now the air between them was thicker than blood. “Don’t you understand? I’m dangerous. I killed people-"

“No, you didn’t.” She practically shouted and a tear escaped her eyes. Bucky resisted the urge to wipe it away. “They did. They used you. You’d never hurt anyone. I know you. And I’m not afraid.”

“Well you should be.” Bucky closed his eyes, wiping his hand across his face. He felt her move back toward him then, and he didn’t fight it. She crawled back into his lap, arms around his neck and forehead pressed to his, ignoring the sweat that still clung to his skin. 

She was warm, almost overbearingly so, but he ignored it and wrapped his arms around her waist. She had made up her mind ages ago, when she told him that first time that she loved him and, since then, he could do nothing to push her away. It didn’t matter how many times he’d done things that would make a normal person piss their pants and run away, tail between their legs. She always sat, still, watching and waiting. She was always there to scare away the demons, to wave off the nightmares, to kiss away the pain. And Bucky knew she always would be.

“I’m sorry.” He breathed.

“I’m not.” She answered.

Bucky opened his eyes, staring straight into hers. He could pick out the different colors, swirling in front of him like a kaleidoscope. His hand- the metal one, the one that haunted him day and night, the reminder of what he’d lost- reached up and grasped the back of her head gingerly. He wished, God he wished, he could feel her hair between his fingers, or the curve of her neck. There were certain things he could feel: pressure in his hand. But he couldn’t feel the softness of her skin, or the warmth it radiated. Her hair can’t tickle his palm. It made him sad, to think about it that way. Sure, he had another hand, he could easily reach up and tuck that loose strand behind her ear (and he did, after a moment.) It just wasn’t the same. But all the same, she didn't care. She didn't care about the things he'd done. She didn't care about the metal arm or the blank stares when he let his mind wander, or constantly comforting his nightmares. She didn't care, because those weren't the things that made Bucky Barnes.

She leaned to the side, her lips barely touching the lobe of his ear. Her breath was hot on his neck. His metal hand at the back of her head caught the moonlight, a shimmering wave of silver in the otherwise dark room. “I love you.” She whispered. There weren't a lot of things Bucky trusted anymore. He'd been lied to, been manipulated, and he knew better than to believe everything he was told. But he knew, beyond everything else, this was true.

Her lips pressed against his jaw, and he felt his breathing relax. Her chest pressed against his, and when she moved so that she could capture his mouth with hers, he felt the nightmares melt away. Her left hand slipped into his right, palm to palm, and he thanked God he could still feel it. The sweat-soaked sheet and skewed underwear that separated them was quickly gone. He didn’t let her hand leave his the whole time, not once, gripping to her for life. 

When it was over, her legs tangled with his. Her arm was around his chest, the other in between them. He held her, close, burying his nose in her hair. He breathed her in as she fell asleep, and when he joined her in sleep, he dreamed of red lipstick, a diamond necklace, and the woman who was not afraid.

_Cause I want you to stay, with me  
I need you tonite_


End file.
